The Story of Morgana Goloris Pendragon
by Pokemon67
Summary: Summary: The people are uneasy after the ban on magic is removed. Why, after everything Uther put them through to get rid of magic, would his son turn around and bring it back? Arthur needs to address them. But instead of making a boring speech, he tells them a story.


**Me: This is a sort of sequel to my story,** _ **A Missing Dress,**_ **Though it can be read as a stand alone— But that's where I explain how Arthur's back.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing**

 _~Pokemon67 is sorry for any grammar errors~_

Arthur sighed as he looked out the window at the crowd of people gathered in the square. He could see the guards doing their best to keep order and make sure no one got trampled. Word had spread well: Today was the day the people got an explanation on why the ban on magic had been removed.

Arthur turned away from the window and grabbed his cloak. He fastened it around his neck and strode out of the room, figuring he was as prepared to face the people as he would ever be.

When Merlin told Arthur of his idea, Arthur was awed by the brilliance of it (though he downplayed it for Merlin's benefit— no need for him to get a big head). But now, being seconds away from going through with it, Arthur was having second thoughts.

It was very personal, the idea. Very touching and personal and _painful._ ''But that's the point,'' Merlin had argued. ''This is something the people can _relate_ too: They'll understand it, Arthur.''

And he was right. But nevertheless, Arthur was afraid.

He reached the doors to the balcony where he'd address the people. Leon and Percival were there, standing guard. Gwen was there too, looking beautiful and composed in her stunning gown.

She smiled at Arthur and kissed him on the cheek. ''Ready?'' she whispered. The slight tremor in her voice told Arthur that, despite her appearance, she felt as apprehensive as he did.

Arthur took her hand in his. ''And away we go,'' he replied. Together, they exited onto the balcony.

Even though he had gotten a peek from out his window in his room, Arthur was still overwhelmed from the vast crowd that had gathered today. Not only was all of Camelot here, but other's from the surrounding countryside had come in search of answers.

 _Why?_ You could here the question everywhere in Camelot the past few weeks. _Why? Why after everything Uther put us through to get_ rid _of magic, would his son turn around and say 'bring it back''? Why?_

And now they were waiting, holding their breathe, prepared to get an answer to their question.

Arthur took a deep breath, preparing himself to give it to them.

''People of Camelot, you all know why you are here. A few weeks ago, your queen, my beloved wife, Gwenivere, revoked the ban on magic. This confused many of you, as we have just finished fighting a war that was caused by magic. Today, I am here to tell you why Gwenivere did what she did, and why I agree with her decision wholeheartedly.''

Arthur paused to glance at Gwen. She was looking at him, squeezing his hand in encouragement.

''I was prepared to give a speech about our decision, but— as a good friend told me— speeches make people fall asleep, and everyone needs to hear this explanation.'' Arthur briefly scanned the crowd for the sassy, black haired servant who had made this remark, but only caught a glimpse of him leaning against a pillar before continuing. ''So, instead, I'm going to tell you a story.''

The crowd shifted in unease and curiosity. Where was their king going with this?

Arthur took a deep breath and began again. ''This story is about a young girl. This girl was the daughter of two very powerful nobles. She was greatly loved and happy. Until one day, her parents were injured in battle. The girl's father, on his deathbed, pleaded with his close friend to take care of his beloved daughter.

''The man was a king of a neighboring kingdom. He kept his promise and took the girl as his ward and brought her to live in his castle. The girl was very frightened. Here she was, all alone in a strange, new place, without her parents. But she was brave, this girl was, so she decided to make the best of things and get to know her new home.

''She would sneak away from the tutor her lord had hired to teach her, and she would explore the city. She smiled at everyone she met, headless of rank, and introduced herself politely. She made many friends, and was soon beloved by all in the city.

''One day, while she was hiding from her tutor (even though she did her best to be kind to everyone, that tutor was an exception. Though she was a perfectly pleasant woman when not working, she was a horrid beast when trying to get the girl to remember her maths) the girl found herself above the throne room. Down below her, her lord, who she had only known to be kind to her, was yelling.

'' 'You have betrayed me!' He said.

'' 'No! My lord, never!' A man replied. He was on his knees, trembling at the anger of his king.

'' 'I charge you with the use of sorcery,' the king said. 'You will burn at the stake tomorrow.'

''This conversation frightened the girl. And as she was one to speak her mind and question those she disagreed with, she asked the king:

'' 'Why did you do that?'

'' The king explained to his ward that the man had been accused of using magic.

'' 'So?' The girl demanded.

''The king explained to her that magic was evil, and that those who practiced it were evil as well.

'' 'But that man didn't look evil,' the girl insisted.

'' The king agreed. 'That is how sorcerers trick us. But we must always look at the evidence, and judge with a cool head from there.'

''The next day, the girl was crouched by her bedroom window. She saw as the guards dragged out the man, the man begging and pleading that he wasn't a sorcerer, and to _please_ let him go as he had a family that needed him. No one listened to him, nor to his screams and sobs as they lit him on fire.

''The girl was haunted by this: if he was at the end, then why did he keep up his charade? Why not confess and keep his head held high, departing this world with his pride intact? Why beg and plead and make a spectacle of himself when he was caught?

''If sorcerers were so powerful, why didn't this one fight for his freedom?

''The girl was confused— it didn't make sense. But her lord would never lie to her, so she believed him and decided to leave the matter at that, pushing the man's screams and sobs out of her mind.

''The girl couldn't forget about the matter completely, however. Her lord sentenced many other's to death on the grounds of using magic. And— to her horror— some of them were children.

''She watched from her bedroom window as people of all ages were killed in the square. Some begged and swore loyalty to their king. Other's kept their heads held high in scorn for what they believed to be injustice. Other's tried to run. And still other's went without a word, tears on their face as they let the king have his way.

''The girl was haunted by these faces that had met their fate in the square. She was sickened. But surely it was right, for hadn't her king told her magic was evil, and that those who practiced it evil as well?

''She clung to that belief, even as she watched girls her own age be lead to the stake.

''The girl grew up. The hunting for user's of magic had died down, and the girl could almost forget the screams, the terror of those faces that were lead from this world by the king's orders.

''But something was happening to the girl: she could feel it. She had strange dreams, dreams of events that later came true. And accidents started happening around her. Fires started, things fell from their shelves and broke at her feet. It was magic, she knew it. Someone was making these things happen to her.

''Imagine her horror when one day she realized it was her.

''The girl had magic. But she couldn't! No! Magic was evil! Those who had it were evil! She wasn't evil! She loved the city, and the people in it. She was good! Wasn't she?

''This got the girl thinking of all the people she watched die. All those men, women, and children. Husbands and wives. Fathers and mothers. Sisters and brothers. Had they all been evil?

''They couldn't have been! But then that meant—

''Her king was wrong.''

Arthur let his words settle over the crowd. There was an awkward silence: they knew who he was referring to, and they weren't sure how to react.

Arthur leaned over the balcony, letting his words carry over the crowd again. ''The girl longed for someone to confide in, someone to tell her fears to. But who could she trust? To even so much as speak of magic was to raise alarm in the city. Even her closest friends couldn't be trusted— for fear of danger to herself and to them.'' Next to Arthur, Gwen shifted uneasily. ''The girl was alone. And left alone, she was scared.''

Arthur straightened up again. ''You all know who I am talking about. I am talking about Morgana Goloris Pendragon, my sister, whom we have just defeated. Whom is the reason that many of our brave kinsmen are dead right now.''

The crowd began to murmur. They were right: Their king was talking about that witch who had tried to take over Camelot in the past. Who had shot innocents in the street to get the knights of Camelot to swear loyalty to her. How could Arthur stand there and speak of her?

''I know your memories of Morgana are marred by recent events,'' Arthur said gently, though still loud enough to carry out across the sea of people. ''But you know that all I have said is true— she _was_ kind and good.

''Left alone, Morgana had to act. Had do to something to save herself. You all know about the years my father searched tirelessly for her. And you all remember the celebrating when we found her again.

''But Morgana was not as she had been. She had changed. She was no longer that scared girl in a city that she was only a guest in. Now she knew who she was, and she was proud. Morgana now had the knowledge and confidence that no one else in Camelot did— the knowledge and confidence to realize that _Uther was wrong.''_

If you had asked the people in the square what they expected upon coming out here today, they would not have said that. To hear Arthur Pendragon declare loud and clear to his entire kingdom that his beloved father was _wrong_ was not at all what they thought would happen, even though it was clear Arthur disagreed with Uther. Why, Arthur's whole reign was just riddled with decisions Uther wouldn't have agreed with. Making men knights regardless of status, allowing Druids to peacefully trade in the city, and— most shockingly— marrying a _servant._ But though they knew in their hearts Arthur disagreed with his father, they always assumed he'd keep it buried inside himself like they all did for so many years. Clearly not.

Arthur let the people absorb his words, trying to control their shock. Wrong. His father had been wrong.

''Do not think that I stand here today to say that Morgana was right to kill and seek out to hurt those who had hurt her and her kind. I stand here to say that she and my father were alike in that they both made the same mistake— the mistake that Gwenivere and I are desperate to stop making— the mistake of fear.

''That is what caused my father to ban magic! Fear! Fear and bitterness! Bitterness against those who he thought killed his wife. Fear that the same thing would happen to the rest of his loved ones. And so he turned on magic.

''Fear and Bitterness is what caused Morgana's transformation too! Bitterness that my father had banned magic, making her fear herself. Fear that if she were discovered, she would be lead to die in the square like those she watched from her window.

''That is why my father sentenced so many to death. That is why Morgana felt justified in her search for revenge. That is why Gwenivere and I want to allow magic to be practiced in the open again— so we will not be afraid of it.''

Arthur stopped and for a moment, the square was silent. Everyone was thinking about Arthur's words. Magic coming back. Magic, deadly as a blade, being as readily available as one. It was all so strange after so many years of being frightened by the mere mention of the art.

Arthur cleared his throat and prepared himself for his last message: a choice for the people to make. ''I am your king,'' He said. ''It is my sacred duty to protect you, as my father— though I may have disagreed with his methods— did his best to protect you. So, the choice rests with you. And the choice is this: do you wish for magic to be returned to Camelot?''

Again, there was silence. Then a small voice shouted from below, ''What if those who practice magic become like Morgana?''

Arthur looked down in the direction of the voice. He couldn't see it's owner, but he knew it was a child. A very young child, from the sounds of them.

Arthur turned to Gwen, giving her the option of answering. ''Those who practice magic won't become like Morgana,'' Gwen said, her voice, though directed at the child, rang loud and clear though the crowd. ''Morgana made a choice. A choice she felt she was forced into making, but a choice nonetheless. And unlike Morgana,'' Gwen added. ''Those who practice magic won't be alone like she was.'' Tears glistened in her eyes. ''I won't let them be.''

''We will protect you,'' Arthur said. ''Magic users will be tried if they chose to use their gifts for evil. We promise. Camelot will not live in fear, but peace with the art. But that is only if you chose so.

''This is why we revoked the ban in the first place. But if you wish it, we will place it back. This is your city, and your choice.'' With that, Gwenivere and Arthur exited the balcony.

….

Another part of Merlin's idea was to have every man, woman, and child vote on the decision. Arthur couldn't wrap his head around this at first, but eventually agreed that is would get the point across that the choice was entirely in the hands of the people.

So guards set up a simple scroll with two columns, _For_ and _Against._ A scribe asked each person to make their choice, and made a tally in that person's chosen column. Guards were posted all around to keep order.

Arthur and Gwen watched from their bedroom window nervously. They weren't sure whether to expect chaos or calm.

Things went extremely smoothly. People lined up obediently and waited patiently for their turn. The mood seemed somewhat similar to tax day— acceptance on the inevitable turn at the table— and yet there was something else in the air. It was almost like the people were mourning.

Arthur realized that they probably were. They were mourning for any loved ones that they had lost to the Purge. They were mourning the ones they lost to the recent war. And— unless he was gravely mistaken— Arthur believed they were mourning Morgana.

Morgana, who used to walk around Camelot by herself. Morgana, who was polite to all who talked to her. Morgana, who every morning would come sweeping out of the castle, eager for her daily ride. Morgana, who they used to watch while she learned sword play— inspiring the boys and girls her age to be like her. Morgana, who whenever there was a influx of people seeking refuge, she was the first to pass out food, water, and clothes to any and all who needed them. They were mourning that sweet, brave, strong, stubborn woman who they all had loved dearly, but who had betrayed them all in the end.

 _Or did she think we betrayed her first?_

Arthur and Gwen spent the rest of the day pretending not to watch the window. Even the children were given the vote, and Arthur couldn't help but smile as he watched a little boy stand on his tiptoes to give the scribe his modest opinion. Oh, how Uther was probably rolling over in his grave at the idea of not only uneducated _peasants_ voting, but _children._

The line was long. Nightfall came and it wasn't until way into the night that finally the last person, a young mother with a baby on her hip, gave her vote to the scribe. The scribe made the last dash and the mother hurried across the square to her home with her tired child.

''It's over?'' Gwen asked as she came over to stand behind Arthur.

Arthur nodded. ''Now what?''

''We wait?'' Gwen said. They exchanged a look. No, they didn't care how late it was— they'd count the votes themselves, tonight. ''Let's go steal a scroll.''

Of course, being the king and queen of Camelot, they didn't really have to steal the scroll. But they did give the poor, tired scribe a near heart attack by startling him when they jumped out at him and asked for it.

After apologizing to the scribe and giving him tomorrow off, Gwen and Arthur hurried to the throne room to sit at the round table and count the votes.

The sat in their places and, in the quite of the room, unrolled the scroll and counted the votes, Gwen the _For_ and Arthur the _Against._

Arthur finished long before Gwen.

Gwen stared at the column of dashes that so outnumbered Arthur's. ''I think it's safe to say,'' she whispered. ''The majority ruled.''

Arthur looked at the column and laughed. He couldn't believe it. ''So many,'' he mused. ''How?''

''If I had to guess,'' Gwen began, running her hand over the shorter _Against_ column, her hand brushing the large cluster of marks. ''These people were those who didn't lose anyone over the years to charges of sorcery.''

Arthur's grin faded as he compared the columns again in this new light. If everyone in the _For_ column had lost someone because of a false accusation, than there were so many innocents who had died. Merlin had been right. Arthur hadn't really thought about just how many people could relate to losing someone because of the ban. That's why Merlin had suggested speaking about Morgana— because she was the one person everyone in Camelot had in common.

Gwen sighed and rolled up the scroll. ''We'll have to put this in the vaults,'' she said.

Arthur nodded; if all went well, then this would be a very historical document to Camelot's history. Well, actually he supposed it already was.

Arthur and Gwen silently went back to their room. They would place the school away tomorrow, after they displayed it for the public to see. The magic ban would stay gone, and magic would be returned to Camelot.

''It's going to be interesting,'' Gwen commented.

''Yes,'' Arthur replied. ''I wonder how it will go?''

 **Me: Follow me as an arthur (see what i did there?) and you may find out….**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Please review— I love hearing what people think of my writing!**

 **Happy Writing!**


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